Awake
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: He hated every second of it, but his dream had crumbled, crashing into the ground with a force he had never imagined possible.


**Quidditch League – Appleby Arrows [Chaser 3]**

**Prompts: (1) Wagon Wheel by Darius Rucker ; (11) Afternoon on a Hill by Edna St. Vincent Millay ; (15) Wide Awake by Katy Perry**

**Camp Potter II [History Appreciation Week 2]**

**Awake**

Dreams. They were incredibly misleading things, giving people hope for the future but they always got crushed once you allow yourself to wake up.

He most definitely was awake, but how he wished he wasn't. He wished it was all just a dream. He wished that he had never spoken those words, that he had never been consumed by anger in those precious few moments it took for that werewolf, Fenrir, to decide to take revenge on him.

No, not on him. On his son, Remus, a revenge that was much worse than anything that could have been done to him.

He had destroyed his son's life. He may not have done it directly, but it was still his fault. He might as well have told Fenrir to attack his son himself. He had forgotten the consequences. He had lost himself for a moment. Now he had to experience the effect of his own actions. It was almost poetic justice after he had called werewolves 'soulless, evil and deserving nothing but death.'

He knew better now. He knew not to judge all of them based off his experience with only a selected few. He knew that they still felt emotions, some even tried to fit in. He knew that, only he had learnt it far too late.

His heart broke every time he had to lock his son away, casting as many spells and wards as he could to keep them safe. To keep him safe. To stop Remus from feeling the guilt he did whenever he attacked another person while he was a werewolf, and Remus always found out.

They had tried keeping it a secret from him at first, thinking they could protect him, but he always found out. He always woke with the knowledge, the regret, and the guilt of knowing someone else had died by his hand.

It was all his wife, Hope, could do as she wrapped her arms around Remus when he rocked back and forth, tears staining his face. Hope was strong when she wanted to be, and held on even when Remus tried to pull away believing he would only harm her. He knew he should be there comforting Remus and telling him that it wasn't his fault that he turned into a werewolf every month.

He wished he could comfort Remus without feeling the guilt that ate away at him for doing this to his only son. He wished he could allow Remus to play with the other children, but they would find out. Children were curious like that. He knew Remus, and Remus would not like them to know especially since they would never be able to defend themselves being muggle.

He could only watch as Remus found his only friends in his books and loneliness.

For all that he tried to hide his guilt, somehow Remus always saw through him. Remus may only be seven, but he was one of the smartest and most perceptible people he knew.

Whenever Remus caught him staring sadly, or even when a hint of guilt had managed to worm its way into his mind, Remus would stop playing with his toys, or would put whichever book he was reading down, and walk up to him with a bright smile on his face, hugging him tightly. It was in those times he managed to catch a glimpse of the child Remus should have been had he been given a chance.

The bright and happy child that Remus still somehow managed to hold on to despite everything he had been through. It was in those moments that he could feel the happiness he felt when Remus had been younger, even though those memories sometimes felt like they had come from a different lifetime.

He could still remember Remus running through the fields whenever they had a picnic, picking up handfuls of grass and flowers roots and all then giving them to Hope. He remembered how her eyes would shine as she took them, treating them like the most expensive bouquet of flowers she had ever seen. Remus would smile happily, and then chase the random butterfly that had fluttered past as both Hope and he watched; making sure trouble didn't find him.

He could still remember watching the clouds flutter through the sky with only him and Hope watching, because Remus had fallen asleep curled next to them knowing he was safe. They would only leave after the stars had come out. Believing they would have forever to continue enjoying each other's presence, that they would have many other days like that. They had believed in their ability to protect their son and teach him how to protect himself when the time came.

They hadn't been able to do that. They had been too slow, too weak, too trusting. It had cost them more than they had ever believed.

They had tried to have a day like that after Remus had been turned. It hadn't been the same. Remus didn't run around and play like a normal child would, he preferred to read a book, staying near the two of them. The atmosphere simply wasn't the same. They weren't safe, and they knew it. They could watch the clouds and stay until the stars shone their hearts out; it would not be the same because the childish hope and innocence from those days, years ago, had been lost.

Those days had been lost in the pain, captured by the heaviness that hung in the air around them. It had been destroyed in Remus's lost future, because that was the promise that had always been there. That was the only future he and Hope had that travelled beyond their lifetime, but it had disappeared far too soon, far too quickly.

Remus was strong though, much stronger than either one of them had imagined. For all the pain he was put through every month, he was still able to be kind and selfless. He had made sure to tell Remus why he had been bitten, and had expected Remus to be angry at him. He should have been the one to be bitten, not Remus. Remus hadn't been angry. Remus had accepted his apology with more grace than most adults did for something less important, less consequential.

Remus knew his future was at risk, but he accepted it.

They hadn't, watching their son's future crumble with every full moon. They watched as his eyes lost their shine, and his loneliness grew. Their pain only grew, knowing that there was absolutely nothing they could do, and they would do absolutely anything for Remus. _Anything_.

They would never stop caring or loving him. Remus was their son, and even though he was a werewolf now that did not stop him from being their flesh and blood. They would still protect him from as much as they could. They would still be the parents he needed for however long he needed them. They would still be supporting Remus with whatever he wanted to do, because he was their son.

Because it was all they could do now. The past is the past. There was no cure for lycanthrophy, but they would try to make it easier. Remus will know that there's always a place he could go to whenever he needed anything, that was the least they could do.

_He_ would try to make it easier, not because it was his fault but because Remus was his son. While the guilt still remained, it would not help anyone. The only thing left was the love he felt for Remus, because that was stronger than anything else, because Remus was more important than anything else.

As much as he hated it, and wished he could take it back, the truth had woken him from his fairytale. The world was no longer simply black and white. There were only shades of grey, and those who wished to see it.

He hated every second of it, but his dream had crumbled, crashing into the ground with a force he had never imagined possible.

He was awake, and no longer living in his dreams.


End file.
